Blue and Red Makes Purple
by Airlet
Summary: Kirby has never quite understood anything beyond joy, hunger, friendship, pain, fighting, protection, and the difference between good and evil. However, the crash-landing of a strange creature with vastly uncontrollable power causes a need for him to question one single thing: Is there really a line between the bad and the good? (AU!Marx; rated T for potentially excessive violence)
1. In a Boom 'n' a Flash

Marx darted through the galaxy, ducking, zooming, diving, swirling, and even occasionally teleporting to avoid the laser beams that were being directed at him. His gaze was frantic, swinging towards one barren planet to another — _Nope, nope, nope, can't hide there. No shelter here. Completely inhospitable over that way. He grit his teeth. Oh, come on!_

Then, he saw it. His one chance of escape. Not only was it a planet that appeared lush with life and full of all sorts of nooks and crannies for him to take cover in, but, unbeknownst to him, this place would completely change Marx's life.

o-o-o

Tiff, Tuff, Kirby, Falala, and Fololo were practicing jump rope when they heard Meta Knight's voice, causing Kirby to trip on the rope and smack into the ground. The small knight had, as usual, materialized on a random rock.

"Something is coming," Meta Knight spoke, voice sharp and mystery-clad as ever. "Someone, in truth."

Tiff blinked, looking quite bewildered as she stepped towards the star warrior. "What do you mean, Meta Knight?" she queried. "Who's coming? Is it a monster? Maybe even another star warrior?"

"I don't believe it is either," came the response. "It is a creature of similar species to Kirby — but its power may prove to be far more devastating, for it is beyond even its own control. Whatever it may be, we should be wary."

A deep silence fell. Everyone seemed at a loss for words, as if afraid to speak.

"Poyo! Poyo!" Kirby exclaimed out of the blue, breaking the deathly quiet with his questionable cheeriness. "Marrrr-exxx!"

They all turned to face the pink ball of joy. "Say what?"

And, as if on cue, a great big _BOOM!_ resonated throughout the region's farthest reaches.

o-o-o

Every square inch of Marx's body ached and throbbed; he had completely lost all sense of the laws of physics when he had come hurtling towards the planet. His vision faded in and out, his conscious barely able to support the agony he felt. Although he had few bones to break, he still had a ridiculous number of nerves; and they certainly sharpened the pain coursing through his spherical body.

Surprisingly, nothing on or attached to his body had burned up on impact with the atmosphere, as far as Marx could tell, but his injuries distracted him far too much. He tried to sit up, but ended up giving out a loud yell of pain.

Eyes closing tightly, Marx whimpered, tears filling his eyes. _So, this is it . . . Just because of my idiotic choices, I'm going to die here . . . in pain . . . I would far prefer being incinerated by lasers, in comparison to this agony . . ._

o-o-o

The instant the group heard the pained cry, they began rushing off in its direction, Kirby included. Once they reached the source of both the booming sound and the aforementioned scream, time seemed to slow. Everyone froze and stared at the shivering, agonized, hopeless pink ball of despair. Countless scrapes, bruises and burns covered both his body and his accessories, suggesting that he had made a crash landing of some sort.

There was a small _nngh_ sort of sound, and the creature wriggled slightly, only to yelp out a "gah!" and freeze up the best he could.

Tuff frowned at the ball. "Shouldn't it be dead?" he asked, and received a cuff to the head from his sister.

"It will be dead if we don't do something!" she exclaimed, which gained a response of "okay! okay! okay!". Tiff then turned to Meta Knight and queried in a fairly concerned tone, "What should we do, Meta Knight?"

Meta Knight looked towards the castle. "Give it the best care it can receive," he replied after a short silence, "regardless of the consequences."


	2. Floating

Marx's dreams were filled with clouds and stars; galaxies spread out beyond his sight, shining and twinkling both vibrantly and faintly. He floated through it all, feeling as if he were searching for something. But there was nothing left of his home — at least not for him — so what could be found in this cloudy universe, spare for glittering stars and lifeless planets, soft clouds and empty galaxies?

 _Nothing,_ he tried to tell himself, _there is_ nothing _here for me._ But there was.

He left one thing behind, on a world far away. It wasn't his first home, his birth home, but it was home. And he so greatly missed one very certain being.

Marx seemed to soar through the stars at high speeds, rocketing past planets and asteroids, suns and moons. Eventually, he reached the place he was banished, exiled, chased from.

Netheria.

He was about to make his way towards the beautiful planet (as it appeared from above), but a voice cut into his dream.

o-o-o

 _"Hey! Hey, you awake yet?"_

"Tuff!" Tiff hissed, elbowing her brother. "He just crashed into the planet without any spacecraft or gear to protect him! Let him sleep, for goodness sakes!"

Tuff grumbled something in complaint, but otherwise said nothing in response. Tiff continued watching the odd creature they had found in concern.

Unbeknownst to them, King Dedede was currently chasing Kirby about the castle, making quite a ruckus wherever they went (which wasn't near to the infirmary, as Meta Knight had blatantly shooed them away). But that wasn't important right now.

o-o-o

Strangely, rather than awaken him, the sound only caused Marx's dream to break away like a shell, revealing a new one that gave off an oddly nostalgic feel. He knew almost instantly that he was spectating a memory.

"Marx!" a voice called as a little pale magenta-purple ball dashed through the dining room, a cookie in his fangs. "What are you doing? I've told you a million times not to run in the house!"

"Ahm noot, Mafm!" the young Marx yelled, voice muffled and contorted by the sweet. Not that his mild speech impediment really helped.

"Do you have something in your — _MARX_!" He came bolting through the kitchen, chocolate chip cookie in mouth, practically flying past his foster mother. "COME BACK HERE WITH THAT COOKIE! YOU NEED TO EAT YOUR LUNCH FIRST!"

Marx, of course, had the nerve to ignore his mother's cries as he made a not-so-beeline path towards his intended hiding place. Ha! Can't catch me now! he thought, but too soon.

The puffball's hat seemed to soar off as he darted towards the small cranny, and with a frantic but muffled screech, he whirled around to obtain it once again.

Then, his foster mother came right between him and his target, leaned down, and yanked the cookie right out of his mouth.

"Mam! Ow!" Marx yelped indignantly. "That _hurrrt_." He had a bit of trouble with his words, stumbling over the 'th' sound and causing a spray of saliva to fly out from his mouth. Whoops.

His mother ignored Marx's complaints more or less completely. "Marx Jenita Solosis!" she cried. "You are in a huge lot of trouble, Mister! Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

There was an awkward pause; then, in a rather tender and edge-teetering tone, "Can I have my cookie back?"

"MARX!"

Marx sighed. "Okay, okay . . . I'm sorry, Mam, and I . . ." He trailed off, hesitant.

"And you . . . ?" Andrea pressed.

". . . will try —"

This time, the older didn't even hesitate to interrupt. "No tries!" she snapped. "You just will!"

Marx sighed before attempting once again. "I will not do it again," he said, tone flat.

Andrea smiled smugly. "Good," she responded. "Now, put your hat back on — you look like a rubber ball with a bowtie and bread loaves glued on." Marx, of course, eagerly obeyed, as he would do more or less anything to make sure he didn't look as his mother had described.

"Now —" Andrea started to say, but the memory suddenly began to shake, tiny pieces, starting from the corners, beginning to fly away, deteriorate — Marx's conscience wanted him to awaken, despite how abrupt and out of the blue the interruption was.

 _No, no, no!_ Marx thought frantically. _Just gotta . . . hang on . . . a little bit . . . longer!_

But, alas, his eyes flung open, and he was yanked into reality.


	3. Awaken to the Unknown

Everyone seemed to jump up, fully alert, when the creature before them suddenly shot into a sitting position, eyes wide. His gaze darted about, confused and panicked, the air tensing as the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for someone to react.

Only minutes before, the trio in the room, which consisted of only Tiff, Tuff, and Meta Knight (Kirby was _still_ being chased around the castle elsewhere, whilst Falala and Fololo had floated off to get some sleep in a place that wasn't the infirmary; they didn't want to be wakened by any excitement), had been growing rather sleepy — even the small knight had begun to doze off. Tuff's head was resting on his sister's shoulder as the older continuously snapped herself out of an exhausted daze; she didn't want to miss anything, despite what the logical part of her brain was telling her: _sleep_.

Then, it happened.

Their new friend, or perhaps foe, was awake, and the universe was waiting on them; and, in a way, Tuff was first to react — falling to the floor, snoring softly. Even with a sudden burst of excitement, the young Cappy was terribly exhausted, which overruled everything else, in his mind. Tiff, fortunately, gave a much more proper reaction, surprisingly before even Meta Knight could. Through the dark room, she made her way to the lamp, rather than the light switch — she didn't want to scare the creature anymore by shining a vibrant light right in his face. Once the dim light was flicked on, the magenta ball seemed to settle slightly — more at the sight of a calm face than anything, it would seem.

Tiff took a deep breath, then asked softly, "Who . . . _are_ you?"

 _Who are you?_

Marx studied the strange girl's expression. The question had been hesitant, almost unsure, as if she were afraid of the answer she might receive. "I . . ." he started, but trailed off. He had intended on saying, _I'm Marx; and you are . . . ?_ , but, for some odd reason, the words refused to come away, just hanging on his tongue precariously. Suddenly, he burst into a fit of coughs, surprised by the fact that he had the strength to choke out one, let alone a perpetual-feeling bout of them.

Someone else — a very short knight ( **A/N: no offense, Meta!** ), it would seem — came into the lacking light. "Tiff," he said in a swift-toned Spanish accent, which nearly caught Marx off-guard ( _How mysterious,_ he thought sarcastically), "I think we best ask him questions in the morning, when he is perhaps less confused and a bit more used to his surroundings . . . but not necessarily at the time in which we are well-rested, I am sorry to say." The quiet chuckle that followed the last of his words said otherwise.

"Tiff" nodded with a sigh. "Well," she tried, looking back to Marx, who returned his attention to her in turn, "whoever you are, I'm Tiff. This is Meta Knight, and sleeping on the floor is my younger brother, Tuff." She pointed to the silhouette of a boy, fast asleep on the ground. "You're in Castle Dedede's infirmary."

Marx simply nodded (somehow), though many questions of his own were racing through his head — and one managed to come straight out of his mouth, shattering the words he had wanted to say only moments ago. "H-how did I get here?" He hadn't intended for the stammer to leak into his voice, yet it prompted itself right before the faces of his apparent hosts.

 _How did I get here?_

Both Tiff and Meta Knight blinked at the precipitous question, and Tiff opted to be first to respond. "You fell, prior to your crash here in Dream Land," she informed the jester-hatted ball before her. "Right out of the sky — literally. We couldn't trust Cappy Town's doctor — he's a clown-faced idiot, really — so Meta Knight insisted we took you where you could get the best care, even though there would certainly be a bit rough convincing the king that it was crucial beyond imagination."

The memory of what had went down decided to streak through her mind, fast as a bolt of lightning.

"But King Dedede!" Tiff cried. "It's a _medical emergency_!"

The obese blue bird shook his head rapidly. "Nuh-uh!" he dissented. "You ain't comin' in this here castle any day if Kirby's with ya, girl, medo-collie 'mergencies or not!"

"Kirby might be in —" Tiff started, but Meta Knight gently pushed her aside, coming forth to show the battered and bruised being that had fallen from far beyond the reaches of the clouds.

He was ferried on a makeshift stretcher of sorts, held between Meta Knight and Tuff (with a little help from Falala and Fololo on the younger's side), which was frenetically constructed from what appeared to be leaves and twigs, all strapped together with the three jump ropes they had on hand — they were extremely fortunate to have decided to bring the two spares with them.

King Dedede was struck speechless for a frightfully elongated moment, mouth hanging open at just the slightest degree. It was clear that even he could not bear the pitiful sight of the helpless, half-dead magenta ball quite literally laid out before him.

It was when Escargoon spoke that he finally managed to get out at least one coherent word (unfortunately not without interrupting the fairly underappreciated snail). "Sire —" the aforementioned started to say, and, as foreshadowed, he was immediately cut off.

"All right, all right, fine!" Dedede sighed, shoving Escargoon back and shooting a glance towards his waddle dee guards. "What're y'all doin' just standin' there?! One of you go get someone to help this poor lad out!"

The entire group sighed with relief — even Kirby, who was still having a minor amount of trouble grasping the situation. _Thank goodness._

Something became more prominent to Tiff, all of the sudden — one detail she had failed to fully regard at the time it had occurred. Far up in the sky, what looked to be a meteor struck through the sky; but it was barely noon — how could a meteor be visible then?

 _Unless,_ Tiff as her present self realized, _that's not a meteor._

Tiff blinked and shook her head a moment; Meta Knight mostly disregarded this movement, but the creature gave her a look of what seemed concern.

"A-anyways," she managed, "you've been out for not even a day, so don't go anywhere — your injuries are going to put up a fight if you do. I better go grab you something to eat; I haven't a doubt you're probably really hungry." She dashed out of the room without another word; she failed to even wait for a response, as well.

As she sped off towards the kitchen, she happened to pass by Kirby and Dedede, who were now passed out on the floor — most likely from exhaustion. The pink ball looked quite comfortable, snuggled up atop the egocentric king like the latter hadn't been just about ready to murder him only hours ago. Tiff smiled to herself, inadvertently tarrying to assimilate this scene before her, then continued on as quickly as she could.

Back in the infirmary, there was an exchanging of rather bewildered looks between knight and puffball. Marx then blinked, squinting at the door as his stomach practically roared in voracity.

"I hope she comes back soon," he sighed. "I haven't eaten in . . ." He paused a moment, calculating. ". . . two weeks, three days, seventeen hours, and twenty-four minutes."

Meta Knight took a step back, appearing quite shocked. "A-are you quite sure?" he managed.

"Yep," Marx responded sorrowfully. "Only a very lacking amount of water and a weird berry that gave me minor food poisoning." He shook his head. "Worst four days of my life. Never again will I eat wild fruit without being positive of what it is — oh, and a second opinion. Wouldn't trust my own judgment." He laughed dryly. "Nope, nope, nope . . ."

Doing his best to recuperate after the shock of this concept, Meta Knight quickly deviated the topic. "Now that you seem to have the . . . _energy_ , I suppose, I would like to know . . . young sir, what is your name?"

"Marx," was the simple response, "Marx Jenita Solosis, if you must know. Hey, hey, hey, nice to meet ya!" He coughed a few times at that, then sighed. "Should've dropped it at 'know,' yeh?"

There was a soft chuckle, and Meta Knight was about to respond, but a terror-laced scream sliced through the air, shattering the conversation completely.

" _HELP_!"

 **A/N: For any of those who are curious (or annoyed) about how I described Meta as having his Spanish accent from the anime, personally, I just prefer it! It's not as bad as some take it as, really; maybe it's just my auditorial taste . . . In any case, this might be the only time you'll have to concern yourselves with reading even the slightest description of his voice in this story.**

 **In any case, support or no support, I WILL write the next chapter! I'm not like the other people you see, who say they won't make another chapter or video or whatever until they reach their goal, because this is more important to me than a lot of my other stories that I've written (although basically none of them are here; and, even if it were less important, I'd still keep writing). This is actually mostly because I** _ **have**_ **to connect this story to City of Silence, a Discord server roleplay I'm in, for, without that, the plot might go haywire! You never know . . .**

 **I know this chapter probably contained a lot of the bigger words that most likely aren't exactly in your vocabulary, but I was just in a fancy mood — sorry. XD**

 **Anyways, Airlet, OUT!**


End file.
